


Until the End of My Life

by Clockwork_Sky (failsafe)



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Character Study, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Episode: s02e10 Love & Monsters, Extended Scene, Gen, Missing Scene, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-01
Updated: 2007-07-01
Packaged: 2017-10-10 19:56:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/103680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/failsafe/pseuds/Clockwork_Sky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackie Tyler reflects on her daughter's relationship with the Doctor and why she feels she must protect both her daughter and the Time Lord.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until the End of My Life

**Author's Note:**

> I know that at the very least I for one have always found Love &amp; Monsters to be one of the most adorable episodes of the new Doctor Who to date. That's not to say that it's my favorite, per se, and I realize that you're likely to either love or hate it. I'm one of the ones who loves it. One of the reasons for this is that it gave Jackie some character depth, and at the time this was written, this was merely my reflecting on how I saw her at that particular point in time. I can't remember if this was beta'd or not.

_"Let me tell you something about those who get left behind; because it's hard. And that's what you become: hard. But if there's one thing I've learnt, it's that I will never let her down. And I'll protect them both until the end of my life..."_

When Jackie came back into her flat she looked around with her back against the closed door. She locked it without so much as a thought; idle habits filled her life day and night, that she wasn't even sure what she did anymore. Being left alone was hard and it had happened so many times in her life. She often wondered if it was her fault somehow; wondered if maybe she deserved to be left though she couldn't figure out why.

She pulled herself away from the door and walked forward, one slow step at a time sounding like the beating of a drum in the silence. Sometimes the hum of the television or the mournful sounds of Il Divo comforted her, but not tonight. When she noticed the two half-empty wine glasses she stared at the dark bloody red liquid inside. Finally, she walked over to the sofa, sat down dejectedly and flopped back unceremoniously. With her neck against the edge of the sofa, she began to stare at the ceiling. A sigh so deep that it seemed to move in and out of her whole body put a stop to her persistent sniffling and she used the index fingers of both her hands to wipe the tears away from her eyes. No point in crying anymore, really.

Rose was coming back, she'd said. Until she returned, each second that ticked by on the clock felt like an hour. Somehow, each time Rose walked out her door and through the blue doors of the TARDIS Jackie doubted more and more that she'd ever see her daughter again. Every time she came home Jackie had the slightest hope that Rose just might stay. Still, Jackie knew her daughter and every time she saw the way her daughter looked at him- the Doctor- she knew that Rose would never stay; not because Rose didn't want to stay with her but because she would never leave the Doctor. She'd heard the way the Doctor made Rose laugh. She heard the little laughing quiver in Rose's voice when she talked about him; seen her vain attempts at hiding the adoration written all over her face.

There'd been times, many times, when Jackie had resented it. Resented the Doctor's very presence; resented the fact that the Doctor had taken her baby girl away from home and away from her. Everyone left home sometime, Jackie supposed- especially at that age. But not everyone left the planet with a man who wasn't even human. No, her Rose was unique to say the very least. There'd been times when she'd hated the Doctor... sometimes she'd found herself plotting a way to dispatch the Time Lord without it breaking her daughter's heart. But other times when she watched the two of them from the corner of her eye, saw the way they played with each other and the way they seemed to understand the other's every thought and expression in spite of the fact that the two were so very different on the surface... during those times, especially, she was glad that her daughter had the Doctor. And sometimes she even found herself glad, that with all the Doctor had done for her family, even though at times she'd thought he was tearing it apart, that he didn't have to be alone.

Her constant question to the Doctor once she'd begun to accept her daughter's new life was, "Will she be safe?"

One thing that had merited her respect, though, was that the Doctor wouldn't promise what he couldn't guarantee. But the longer she saw Rose with the Doctor the more confident she was that her little girl could take care of herself. But she wasn't really a little girl anymore, was she?

What she'd told Elton was true. She would protect them both until the end of her life. Her daughter was her responsibility and always would be. She would protect her own flesh and blood until her very last breath. But the Doctor... she didn't have to protect him, but she would because, try as she might to deny it, her baby girl loved him. More than that, the Doctor protected her daughter with everything he had to give... so Jackie would protect him in return.

It had been hard to let go; it'd been hard to understand why her daughter would choose such a life...

Jackie moved from her position on the couch, pried her eyes away from the ceiling and picked up the half empty wine glass on the table in front of her. Her lipstick was on the brim. Jackie took a little sip, than began to slowly swirl the glass, as if her wine was cold brandy, watching the red liquid splash inside but never over the top.

She didn't understand why her daughter, or the Doctor for that matter, would choose a life of such danger and fear... She never would. But last Christmas Jackie thought she may have gotten a glimpse of the splendour that hung up above the ordinary-above the Earth- and perhaps saw what it was in the Doctor- through the darkness and mystery that shrouded him, the lingering pain in his eyes no matter how happy he seemed when he spoke to Rose- that drew her daughter. Through the darkness there was a light, Jackie thought as she watched light from a lamp shine through the dark red wine causing a deep purple shimmer through the crystal glass, a dangerous light that drew only all the more because of the dark around it. A light that drew her daughter like a moth to flame... And that night, for the first time Jackie couldn't blame her...

It was getting later but Jackie still hadn't been able to go to sleep. She was in the kitchen putting food away, wrapping it in aluminum for later use before placing it in the refrigerator, and scrubbing every bit of the mess made from cooking three times over. She shook her head and kept right on scrubbing, fussing idly about what a mess Rose always caused but never cleaned up. Every time that girl came home she brought bog monsters and alien invaders with her, but more than that Jackie thought she brought home more housework.

Until a few minutes ago Jackie had heard Rose's voice, talking and laughing, with the occasional interjection from the Doctor, the pair of them on the sofa in the living room. The TV was on, playing the same familiar things Rose watched every Christmas but it was much lower than usual. Earlier when Jackie had looked through the little window through to the living room she'd seen that the Doctor had his nose in a book, only sporadically peeking through his new dark rimmed glasses to look at Rose as she directed his eyes toward the television with little bits of laughter and commentary. Jackie still didn't get it, but she didn't have to, now did she?

When Jackie looked up again, over the bubbling fish tank with the little plastic rocket ship inside, she saw the Doctor standing with his back to her, somewhat awkwardly trying to quietly arrange a pillow beneath Rose's head which was now in the general area he had been sitting a few moments previously. Once he had Rose's head approximately on the pillow he placed his glasses back into his pocket, closed the book on the end table,retrieved his long tan coat from the back of a chair and slipped it up onto his shoulders and went out the door.

In the dim glow of a handful of Christmas lights Jackie saw him pacing back and forth outside the window, finally coming to a stop just in view from the window, placing his hands on the balcony's railing and looking out, looking up.

Jackie found herself drying her hands and quietly walked into the living room, stopping before the door. Her hand went to the knob, but didn't turn as she looked at the top of her daughter's head, listening to the peaceful sound of she did open the door the Doctor hardly acknowledged the sound. He was far too busy looking up into the London sky at the stars above.

Taking a cautious step forward, Jackie spoke, "What's it like up there?"

The Doctor looked down, just into her eyes once as she slowly took the same position beside him. "It's-" he began but then stopped to clear his throat, looking further up past the awning. "It's beautiful," he said simply and quietly after a few moments.

The two stood there for a long time, awkward silence seeming to sit there like a tangible wall between them for the way Jackie felt. She was surprised he didn't walk away. Finally when Jackie thought of something to say,she opened her mouth and sound came out, but it never quite formed into a word, the sound thinking better of it maybe.

"What?" the Doctor asked, looking at her briefly again but only with his eyes, not turning his head again.

"You don't really like me... do you?"

This time the Doctor actually looked at her, even turning slightly. "What gave you that idea?" he asked with no conviction in his voice though it cracked slightly.

"Nevermind... What did you come out here for?"

"Rose fell asleep."

Another long uncomfortable pause...

"Doctor, it may be out of my place to ask but..."

Taking on his usual sarcastic demeanor toward her, not really looking at her as he talked, though the sarcasm seemed less biting than usual, the Doctor interjected. "Maybe... but if you want to ask, ask anyway."

"Why... why do you take her with you? What do you need her for?"

"I don't need her," the Doctor said defensively, and Jackie wasn't sure whether it was actual insistence or that he was lying. "...Just makes things easier, I suppose."

"But why her?" Jackie asked, raising her voice a little, out of genuine frustration and not anger.

The Doctor groaned softly and turned to face her more fully and half rolled his eyes. "Jackie, you heard her. She wants to go..."

"Yes, but why? Why would you let her? Why did you ask her in the first place? She's just a kid and she's... she's human... she's my little girl and she's human. She was born here, on Earth, in London, to a human mother and a human father. She doesn't belong up there with all those aliens... those things."

"Am I a _thing_, Jackie?"

"Well, no, that's not what I-..."

The Doctor continued, his voice bordering on anger but he seemed to be holding back, trying to keep from shouting. He even seemed like he might be trying to comfort her... "Jackie your daughter is not just a little girl. She's seen all those things out there and she'd tell you herself... just because those things aren't human it doesn't mean they aren't people. She's been out there... seen that life and you expect me to make her go back?"

"No. I just want to know why you took her away from me!"

"I gave her the choice... she chose to come with me. I was alone and she came with me."

"Well why can't you ask one of your people to go with you? Why couldn't you have just left her alone... She used to be ordinary... she used to have a normal life and... she was happy..." Jackie trailed off even though she looked at the Doctor as squarely as she ever had, straight into his brand new piercing brown eyes.

That time the Doctor actually looked away from her. "They're gone," he whispered, looking down at a shining oil spot on the street below, at the neon rainbow reflected in it, though his eyes- his mind- were completely somewhere else. "What?"

"They're gone, Jackie! Gone. That's it." he said, looking back up at her.

Jackie took an unconscious little step back but continued to watch his eyes. After a moment of trying to think of another biting reply her face suddenly softened. In his eyes she saw something she'd never seen before, never imagined she could see in the Doctor's eyes. He looked lost. Looked like he didn't know what he was doing, like he didn't have a plan, like he didn't have a purpose. Something in his eyes spoke of pain, and in that moment at the same time he seemed both ancient and like a little child. Rose had told her that the Doctor was 900 years old... and now, in the same moment, she believed it more fully than she ever had but at the same time saw in him the same youth, the same lack of direction, that she well expected from her daughter. Maybe the two of them were more alike than she had first imagined... Jackie found herself backing up a step further. For the first time she thought she understood why Rose couldn't leave him.

"Doctor..." she began but couldn't think of what to say.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor said at length, seeming just a little ashamed. He smiled weakly and looked back up at the sky. "Jackie, Rose isn't a little girl and... she's not an idiot... she knows what she's doing."

"Does she, though?"

"Sometimes," the Doctor admitted with a weak laugh and a shrug. After a moment he turned round and looked her square in the eye and spoke seriously and sincerely, "Jackie, I can't promise you that she'll always be safe. But what I can promise you is that I will do everything in my power to protect her and that for as long as we're both alive I will always bring her back to you. She will always be your daughter."

Jackie examined his eyes for a moment, looking for any hint of a consoling lie but found none. Once again she opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.

After a few seconds the Doctor broke eye contact and with a single fluid motion and a flip of his long coat he turned round and began walking toward the staircase.

Jackie took a step after him but didn't move anymore when she saw him stop on the first step.

"I promise, Jackie," he said again.

"I trust you..." Jackie said at length, hardly above an audible whisper.

"Then I guess that's all I need," with the vaguest hint of a smile as he continued down the staircase to the street below she heard him say, "Merry Christmas."

Jackie stood still for a moment, her hand finding its way and rubbing back and forth on the balcony's railing as she watched him go in the direction of the crash-landed TARDIS, long coat blowing behind him, rippling in his wake.

When he was just out of sight she turned around and quietly stepped back inside, Rose still fast asleep on the couch, never even knowing that the Doctor had gone. But this time Jackie knew he'd be back in the morning so she didn't bother waking her. Instead she took a folded blanket from the back of the sofa and draped it over her daughter and turned out the lamp next to her, leaving her in the blue half-light of the fish tank and the glow of the light from the kitchen.

Jackie went to the kitchen and turned out the light, leaving nothing but the fish tank on the window seal between the two rooms, and came back to the sofa and knelt by it. With two fingers she brushed a thick strand of Rose's long blonde hair from her eyes and behind her ear. Her baby girl, but the Doctor had been right, she wasn't just a little girl anymore, was she? Rose moaned softly in her sleep, startled a bit by her mother's gentle touch so Jackie stood quickly and quietly and smiled, so wide that she almost couldn't help but laugh as she walked slowly out of the room toward her own bedroom, stopping once more by the door to look at Rose's peacefully sleeping face.

Every time Jackie looked at Rose she still saw her little girl. She couldn't help it and she supposed no mother could. Rose was growing up though... maybe she was grown up. Jackie glanced again out the window as she turned away and padded off to her bedroom. One thing she was sure of now was that love him or hate him that she trusted the Doctor with her daughter's life. And she knew now, without doubt, that the Doctor loved her daughter, too... And maybe that was enough to let her let go...

Taking another drink from the wine glass Jackie found herself wiping another single tear that went down her cheek. Then she found herself laughing a little as she looked at a picture of Rose that was framed on the coffee table. She nearly spilled what was left of the wine on her clean couch as she heard a knock on the door. She jumped up, setting the glass down and ran to the door and into her daughter's arms. When she looked up from her daughter's shoulder she saw the Doctor smile a little, hands shoved down in his pockets. Once Rose pulled away the Doctor tried to follow her but Jackie stopped him for a moment and Rose turned around to see the commotion.

"Come here, you," Jackie said, half-crying, half-laughing as she hugged the Doctor nearly as tightly as she had hugged Rose.

"No... Jackie...really...," the Doctor protested, looking to Rose for help but as his brown eyes caught Rose's hazel ones a mischievous smile came across the human girl's face and she raised her eyebrows briefly, chuckling softly, shrugging playfully and turning away, walking inside to the kitchen. "Rose..." the Doctor half-whined under his breath.

"Oh, go on," Jackie said with slight irritation in her voice as she let the Doctor go and slapped him in the arm but she smiled at him as he walked inside.

Jackie stayed and before closing the door again she leaned against its facing for a moment, listening and hearing her daughters jubilant voice and laughter, talking so excitedly she was surprised even the Doctor could keep up as he hadn't raised her.

The Doctor may take her daughter away sometimes but he always had brought her back and each time she seemed happier. Happier to be home and happier each time she stepped back into the magical phone booth and faded away. Through all the tears for those left behind it was worth it, Jackie had decided a long time ago. They were her family... and that's what made it worth it.

She would protect them both to the end of her life...


End file.
